


Bad Dreams

by wannabefictionalcharacter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Drug Use, Original Fiction, Self-Harm, Short, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabefictionalcharacter/pseuds/wannabefictionalcharacter
Summary: Inspired by my fucked up dreams, enjoy.





	Bad Dreams

I pushed my way through the rotting wooden double doors, this room was darker than the rest of the building, the walls a dark shade of purple and the loud music was now muffled, I walked down the hall that led to the bathroom and made my way in. The room was quite large and the stalls lined the walls, a white brick wall stood in the middle of the room. I made my way through the room, peaking through a few of the open stalls looking for a clean one, there weren't any despite the abundance of stalls, they all seemed to be in a state of decay. The whole building felt that way, from the barely functional lights to the creaky wooden floors, the music that never quite made any sense, and the bar patrons, who never said a word and would all glare if you were caught in their line of sight. I continued to look through the stalls which were all filled with graffiti, and oddly enough… blood, there was lots of blood. Some of it filled the toilet bowl, some of it was splattered on the ceiling, the walls, the floor, there really was an overwhelming amount of blood. In hindsight, I don’t know why I didn’t leave earlier.   
I was now on the other side of the white brick wall, still checking the stall, they were all clogged and one of the toilets was actually broken in half, huh. The next stall was slightly ajar, however, it was not empty. Inside laid a young girl, maybe 19? Her hair was dark brown, long and stringy, and most of it covering her face, she was much skinnier than what could be considered healthy, you could easily tell scars littered her pale skin, even though she was mostly covered… except for her forearms. Her head was hunched over, her back against the door, and her legs splayed out in an odd angle, she wasn’t breathing. She had a needle stuck in her arm, an empty bag lay abandoned somewhere, and a red elastic ribbon was tied to her bicep. The right forearm, however, was worse. It appeared as if she had tried to scratch her own skin own, her forearm was bright red and covered in blood, it was easy to tell she had scratched the skin off by herself. The nails on her left hand were caked in blood, and the scratches on her forearm weren't very deep, but they did cover the whole surface. She had successfully managed to scratch of her skin.  
I stepped back, appalled by the sight before me, I let out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. Who was this girl? Why did she do this to herself? As I regained some sense of clarity, I felt a pair of eyes burning into me, I turned my head to the left only to see someone staring intently. It was another young girl, only this time her hair was wild and curly, but still dark, she sat on the floor with her back pressed against the white brick wall, and her feet pushed out straight in front of her. Her eyes appeared as if they glowed the longer I stared, so I ran, I ran the other way, and I ran as fast as I could busting out of the rotting building, and I continued to run until I found my way back home. But I still thought about that girl, about who she was, if there was anyone who cared for her, why she was there, was she even real?


End file.
